


Spideypool Bingo 2019: B3 Airport Meeting

by ChibisUnleashed



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Because Peter probably wins that contest, Dismemberment, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, What's the weirdest thing /you've/ ever found on a baggage claim?, because I do that sometimes, because Wade does that sometimes, cursing, my poor attempt at Spider-man and Deadpool banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 14:10:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20409067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibisUnleashed/pseuds/ChibisUnleashed
Summary: An odd object on the baggage claim encourages Peter to go investigating. As Spider-man.And of course what he finds is Deadpool in a mess of his own making.





	Spideypool Bingo 2019: B3 Airport Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU SPIDEYPOOL BINGO ORGANIZERS!  
forputtingupwithme~ <3

Prior to this moment, Peter had kind of prided himself on the weird things he’d seen rotating forever on baggage claims. Now, it was just kind of concerning.

Maybe that was because it wasn’t weird as much as the severed foot of his lover, which on the grand scale, leaned more toward panic than curiosity. 

It didn’t help that Peter had only thought to investigate after its, like, twentieth trip around the claim? Which meant it had been there a while, and Deadpool had been  _ without  _ it for a while. It did beg the question why no one  _ else  _ seemed bothered by the bleeding boot innocently carouselling around with the bags, but Peter wasn’t going to stop to survey the crowd about it. 

All in all, he could have made his way to the bathrooms a little less shadily. Side-stepping and shifting his gaze around everywhere was a sure-fire way to get noticed, but he wasn’t thinking in his right mind. There was the possibility, entertained by his brain out of sheer desperation and hope, that this was an elaborate welcome home prank because Wade knew he was coming back today and exactly on which flight, but… 

Wade didn’t usually dismember himself when he was trying to be romantic. He was crazy, sure. He was also pretty good at being nice when he wanted to. Peter had freaked out enough times over Wade’s excessive bodily harm that chances were high he wouldn’t do it just because. 

Hiding his luggage was a hilariously monumental task. The front sides of airports didn’t have a lot of dark nooks and crannies on purpose, and Peter had to be very sure it wouldn’t be found because every one of his bags had a  _ luggage tag  _ with his  _ name on it.  _ Nothing like finding PETER PARKER’s luggage strapped down under SPIDER-MAN’s webbing to cast some doubts and launch some theories. 

He did remember to go back and snatch up Wade’s foot and hide it, too. Just in case someone finally decided to notice and scream or something.

He was much freer to move in full regalia. Nobody questioned it anymore when they saw Spidey crawling around on a ceiling, even in odd places. They might hurry out the door a little faster, or stop and snap a photo, but generally he was left to do what he needed to do. Which was good, because he had no fucking clue where the baggage handling was and he took some wrong turns before getting down there. The sounds of shouting and heavy  _ thumps  _ and witty banter helped.

And oh shit, Wade was missing more than just a  _ foot.  _

He was beginning to look a lot like the Black Knight, actually. 

Truthfully, Peter would be impressed later that Wade was continuing to hold his own against five assailants who had removed most of his limbs. He wasn’t doing much damage, sure, but he  _ was  _ delivering solid kicks with his one good leg, his one good  _ limb,  _ and that was pretty awesome given the circumstances.

In the moment, however, Peter was panicked out of his mind. Sure, they hadn’t yet figured out a way to permanently kill his lover, but Peter would rather they stop trying. 

The element of surprise was on his side, as nobody was paying attention to him when Wade was flopping around on the luggage carts like that. He insulted their father, brother, sister’s ex-girlfriend’s little cousin, and about three ancestors and that was sufficient cover for Peter to get close and start webbing. 

“C’mon, seriously? Even King Arthur didn’t have  _ that  _ hard a time” 

To be fair, it had been long enough that Wade’s foot was beginning to grow back, and one of his arms. It was the strangest shit to watch and Peter chose to focus on the positive, that they were growing back, than on the negative, that he looked a bit like a straw doll assembled around knitting needles that had been accidentally tossed in the washer too many times. 

And they were going to have to patch up his suit  _ again.  _

The attackers were using swords and knives instead of firearms, which was convenient for many reasons. Mostly, that Peter did pretty alright when he got sliced up and less alright when he got shot. So if he  _ had  _ to choose… The lack of gunfire also drew less attention. Swords were largely silent, especially if they weren’t meeting other swords and in this case they weren’t. Deadpool’s katana were lodged in the baggage cart’s engine and, impressively, in an air vent some twenty feet above them. He might ask how that happened later. He might also not care.

Peter had the full attention of three of them, leaving only two to wildly chase the squirming mercenary around the conveyor belt. They were almost as flexible as he was, but not as fast, and definitely not as naturally strong. Their swords whooshed by his ear, his foot, his shoulder, and he already knew they were sharp enough to slice through if he let them. At the first opportunity, Peter struck out at their hands to ruin their grips, because the faster he got those swords away, the faster he could overcome them with webbing and brute force. 

He still webbed one in the face for kicks, though. Nevermind that they had knives to cut themselves back out, it was entertaining and it slowed them down. With only two effectively fighting for the moment, Peter was better able to twist around to the forty-five, get between them, and  _ knock a fucking sword away,  _ hallelujah. “You didn’t need that, right?”

He webbed that shit solidly to the ground, too. It would really suck to gain an advantage just to lose it again because he didn’t double-tap. 

The reduced reach of the knife pulled to replace the sword was a breath of fresh air. The third guy was back, but that was okay, because overall it was still only two swords swiping at him now and that was manageable. “You guys aren’t very talkative, are you?” Meanwhile, Wade’s ongoing diatribe from somewhere to his left was comforting, even if what he was saying about magician’s assistants, shibari, and the unwritten plot of Now You See Me was less so. 

Although he made a good point about the underlying motivations hidden in plain sight of certain characters and Peter  _ was  _ going to ask him about that later. It would make a good movie night.

Peter went for a Death from Above style attack because fuck being on even ground in an uneven fight. With the amount of times Peter had smacked their hands, it was a thing of ease to web the two remaining swords and pull them up out of their grips. They lodged into the ceiling support beams and Peter… definitely just left them there, “I’m sure this place has insurance.”

A surprise knife flew just past his chest, only because Peter had sensed it and twisted to the side in time. If they wanted to play that game, he was more than willing. They had a finite number of knives and Peter’s senses were infinite. Plus, Wade probably had his foot back by now and time was absolutely on their side. 

Peter dodged two more knives, “This isn’t a carnival game and there’s no grand prize for popping the Spidey-balloon!” as his three assailants moved into defensive positions below him. They were anticipating Peter to attack by dropping onto their heads, but truth be told that would be really dumb. They still had knives and Peter was skilled, sure, but he couldn’t  _ actually  _ fly. If he dropped, all they’d have to do is hold a knife pointy side up and Peter had a higher IQ than that. 

He played their game, instead. Bits of webbing left his wrists and forced them to dodge around for a while. Wear them out, make them slow, and wait for a solid opening. 

And then a body came out of fucking nowhere and bowled two of them over. 

“Aww,” Wade whined from below, “I was hoping for a strike, but I guess I’ll take a spare.”

Peter did not question it and just webbed the shit out of the pile of three humans before they could stand up again. He hung them carefully away from the swords and knives wedged in the roof, just in case one should fall and help them escape. Fuck that noise.

Wade had the last two thoroughly distracted, dodging around like a wacky waving inflatable arm-flailing tube man and Peter thought it was safe to tackle one from behind now. Their knees probably did not survive Peter’s additional weight unscathed but oh well. If you wanted a safe, uninjured life, better to become an accountant or a data entry clerk. 

Wade must have run out of ammo or lost his guns when he lost his hands because at present, he was beating the last man standing with his own severed arm. Which, if Peter wasn’t so  _ concerned  _ about it, he might find to be pretty awesome. 

When the arm began to look less like a blunt weapon and more like a pool noodle, Peter stepped in with a right hook and took him out. With all five webbed and hung from the ceiling like Halloween ornaments, Peter was finally able to turn his attention to where it rightfully belonged. 

“What the  _ shit?”  _

“Welcome home!”

Alright, fine. Peter allowed Wade to give him a bear hug and he returned it in kind, because maybe this wasn’t the best way to be greeted after a long trip, but he did love this insane man and the worry that had him tense since he first saw that foot was only now able to ebb.

In fact, Wade loosened his hold and Peter continued to cling, because the first thing he saw of his boyfriend upon coming home  _ should not have been  _ just a lonely little piece of him twirling innocuously around a baggage claim, of all things. 

“It’s okay, Baby Boy,” Wade consoled, patting him on the back, “I’m all better now, see?” He waved a small hand in front of Peter’s eyes, wiggling the fingers to show how healthy his slowly growing appendage was. 

And okay, fine. Wade was fine. No permanent damage had been done, but the stress on Peter’s heart couldn’t be  _ un _ done, and there was no reason at all, that Peter could see, that meant he  _ had  _ to go through that in the hour after his plane touched down. So after a calm moment of silence, in which Spider-man’s heart accepted the fact that Deadpool was not dead and slowed the fuck down, Peter reached down and pinched Wade hard on the inside of his thigh. 

“AAugh,  _ fuck!”  _

“You deserve that,” Peter let go and backed away a step. He finally surveyed the guys they had beaten the crap out of, but still he couldn’t tell who they were, what organization they were from, or who might have hired them.

Wade was rubbing his leg and pouting clearly even through the mask, “These are precious gems, Baby Boy. You gotta treat ‘em carefully.”

Peter rolled his eyes and pulled a scrap of paper from a hidden pocket, “Wade, what message am I leaving for the authorities?”

“‘Thank you and have a nice day’?”

...Peter went with it. He signed friendly neighborhood Spider-man and stuck it to the front of the three webbed together. It wasn’t the information he was looking for, but the faster he got Wade home, the faster he could decompress from this horrible afternoon. 

“We’re talking about this more when we get home,” he informed his lover as he casually hopped back up to the ceiling to retrieve Deadpool’s katana from the vent.

Wade was wandering around gathering up the…  _ variety  _ of things he’d lost in this fight and Peter was not pleased to see that that included his glove and watch and…”Sure thing, Honey Bunch, and I promise it’s not as bad as it looks. Or sounds.”

Peter closed his eyes and counted to ten.

He dropped back to the ground and held out the sword to Wade, “And now we get to play Hide and Seek.”

“Oh?” Wade bounced on his feet and somehow didn’t take a finger off when he sheathed his swords, “Who’s hiding?”

Peter sighed, “My luggage.”


End file.
